


Like a Force to be Reckoned With

by combeferre_writer01



Series: The Witcher Stories [6]
Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: Eventual Romance, Fluff in the second chapter, M/M, baby!Jaskier, geralt's doing his best, yen gets a peek into being a mother
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-22
Updated: 2020-01-25
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:20:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22367071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/combeferre_writer01/pseuds/combeferre_writer01
Summary: Request: Soooooo. How about a cruse that de-ages Jaskier and Yen gets to literally baby him for a bit? :D
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: The Witcher Stories [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1599160
Comments: 38
Kudos: 663





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Jillamy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jillamy/gifts).



> The title comes from the song "Two" by Sleeping at Last. Also, I had WAY too much fun writing baby!Jaskier... A second chapter is on its way and there's some fluff in there between Geralt and Jaskier,

To say Yennefer was shocked to hear Geralt of Rivia was trying to find her would have been correct. To say Yennefer was confused to find Geralt of Rivia standing on her current doorstep with an armful of a weeping baby was an understatement. 

“Who’s your little friend?” Yen asked, beckoning Geralt inside the sparsely furnished cabin.

“Jaskier.”

The baby stopped crying and looked at Geralt with wide eyes. The baby reached for Geralt’s nose and the Witcher sighed, closing his eyes. Yen gathered Geralt let this happen because he’d cry again otherwise. 

“Jaskier? Your bard?” Yen raised an eyebrow. The hair and eyes were the right colour. 

“Yes. I was fighting a changeling, it knew a spell to change others into something else, and he jumped in front of me.”

Jaskier let go of Geralt’s nose plopping the pudgy hand onto his cheek and kept it there. Geralt lifted the baby so he could look him in the eyes. “What?” He sighed again when Jaskier simply giggled. Yen had to bite back a giggle of her own. 

“What did you want me for?”

“I need you to watch him while I find a way to change him back to normal.” Geralt repositioned Jaskier so he was cradled in his left arm again and Jaskier started crying again. “Jask, we talked about-”

“He doesn’t like being on his back.” Yennefer took Jaskier and held him upright to her chest, his tiny head resting on her shoulder. Almost instantly he stopped crying. “Your armour was probably hurting him.” 

“So you’ll do it, then?”

“Of course.” Yen looked down at the small child in her arms and looked back up to Geralt. “I’ll do some digging in my books and see if I can find anything to turn him back.”

Geralt hummed. “I’ll be back as soon as possible.” He turned to go and paused when Yen made a shushing sound. He looked over his shoulder and saw Yen bouncing Jaskier gently, the tiny bard’s lower lip trembling. “I’ll be back in a few days, Jask.” He patted Jaskier’s head and went out of the door.

* * *

Yennefer noticed odd things about Jaskier as time went on. At first, he seemed like Jaskier-- adult Jaskier but much smaller-- and then things slowly changed. 

After Geralt left, she took the rest of the day to allow herself and Baby Jaskier (Skier as she called him) to get used to each other. She made a broth soup for dinner so the toothless Jaskier could eat.

The next day, she really did start researching. Jaskier would either be on the floor with a blanket under him with some sturdy trinkets to play with, or he’d be in her lap and she’d to him from the books. 

All the while he was on the blanket, he’d babble away or sing some nonsense song only he understood. Yennefer would talk back to him when he babbled and when darkness fell, Yennefer would get into a nightgown and fall asleep once Jaskier was soundly sleeping on her stomach or chest.

The third day brought up some concerns and she began to look for a cure faster. As much as she enjoyed looking after the baby, Jaskier not replying to his name as quickly was worrisome.

“Skier.” Nothing. “Skier?” Still nothing. “Jaskier!” The small head turned to face her, his tiny brow furrowed in confusion as to why his name was being yelled. “Come here.” She scooped him up and went back to her book, flipping through the pages and swearing to herself in Elder.

* * *

Day four, Geralt barged into the cabin without knocking. “I can’t find a fucking thing! Finding the damned thing the first time was hard enough with Jaskier’s added knowledge of lore! I can’t walk around pressing silver to people’s necks.” Geralt picked up a clapping Jaskier from the floor and began pacing. 

“I found two potions that could work. I have what’s needed for one but it needs to brew for three days and I don’t know if we have that long.”

“What are you talking about?” Geralt turned on his heel and looked at Yen. If she wasn’t Yennefer of Vengerberg, she’d be intimidated. 

“I think his mind is regressing to match his current physical age.”

“What do you need for the faster potion?”

“A basilisk fang.” She fumbled for a moment when Geralt all but dropped Jaskier in her arms. “I have everything-” the door slammed, “-else.” Jaskier babbled, gripping Yennefer’s earring but not tugging it. “Hang on a little longer, Bard.” She ruffled his hair when he blew a raspberry. “Geralt will be back soon.

* * *

Geralt was back three hours later with a fang in hand. Jaskier was happily blowing spit bubbles and playing with a wooden loom weight. 

“How long will it take?” Geralt thrust the fang into Yen’s grasp. 

“An hour to brew and half an hour to take effect.” Yen started on the potion as she answered. 

Jaskier, dropping the loom weight, excitedly made grabby hands at Geralt with a wide grin. Geralt relented and picked him up. “Yes, Jask, you’ll be back to normal soon.” Jaskier babbled but with Yen’s warning, Geralt couldn’t tell if he was trying to make a reply or if he was just making noise. 

Geralt sighed and held Jaskier a little closer to his chest, the younger form of Jaskier gripping Geralt’s forefinger, periodically bopping the top of it with his other hand. Geralt could almost hear Jaskier going off a mile a minute about the handful of things he missed and making an epic saga out of it. 

Jaskier fell silent for a moment, his pudgy hand still tapping the tip of Geralt’s finger. Geralt took a seat on a wooden chair at Yen’s table and sat Jaskier on his lap.

“That’s the most sound I’ve ever heard out of him.” Yen chortled. 

“You’ve never travelled with him.” Geralt actually chuckled when Jaskier’s hand squeezed his finger as tightly as possible. 

Yennefer looked over her shoulder at the two just in time to see Geralt turn Jaskier so they were facing each other, Jaskier’s tiny legs straight over Geralt’s thighs. She turned back to her worktable, Jaskier babbling again with his hand patting the side of Geralt’s thigh.

* * *

When Yennefer was done with the potion, Geralt sat Jaskier on the floor and Yen helped him to drink the potion. Though the mage predicted half an hour, Jaskier was returned to his rightful size ten minutes later. 

“Welcome back to adulthood, Jask.” Geralt held his hand out to help Jaskier up.

“Thank the gods.” Jaskier took Geralt’s hand and the Witcher pulled him up, catching him when he stumbled. “Fuck! Fuck. Fuck.” Geralt eased Jaskier back to the floor and braced him as he laid on his side, curling up to ride out the pain coursing through his every muscle. 

“What’s-”

“His muscles have been moving a six-month-old around for almost a week. They can’t lift his weight yet,” Yen explained. “Wait the last 20 minutes for the potion to work and it might be remedied.” 

The pain Jaskier felt ebbed away but he stayed curled up in fear of what would happen should he move again. Geralt sat on the floor next to Jaskier. “What were you saying when we were on the chair?” 

Jaskier thought for a moment, wracking his brain. “Was I talking?”

“Trying to. Typical baby’s babble.”

Jaskier slowly shook his head. “I couldn’t tell you.”

“Do you remember anything?” Yen spoke up.

“Uh…” Jaskier thought back as far as he could. “I remember being very dismayed about the notion of being dropped here and Roach trying to lick my head. Aside from that? No.”

Geralt was a bit shocked. Jaskier had a memory like a steel trap. Everything went in yet nothing left. So the fact that he knew nearly nothing of the last couple of days was surprising. 

“How do you feel otherwise?” Yennefer had to ask. Every need the bard had over the last week was provided by her. The mage was going to miss taking care of the small human that was now a proper adult. 

“Fine.” He tried uncurling his legs but grit his teeth in pain, stopping the action as quickly as it had started.

“Just rest, Jaskier.” Geralt ran a hand through the bard’s hair. “We’ll strengthen your muscles again over time if need be.”

“I’ll be back in a moment.” Yennefer walked out the door. 

Geralt could feel Jaskier’s eyes on him and look to his friend. “What?”

“You aren’t dropping me off somewhere?”

“Why would I?” It was Geralt’s turn to be lost.

“I’d slow you down.”

“We have Roach. If we’re moving, you ride her and we work on regaining your strength when we stop to eat or for the night.”

“Oh…! I know that tone!” Jaskier would have pointed at the Witcher if his arm wouldn’t have felt like it was going to fall off.

“What are you talking about, Jaskier?” Geralt sighed, playing dumb. The two had known each other for years; they could read each other like books.

“You blame yourself. Geralt,  _ I _ jumped in front of  _ you _ . If the curse had struck you, as intended, we both would have been killed. So having to retrain my muscles? I’d rather that than death.” The idea of “or seeing you killed” went unsaid but Geralt heard it nonetheless.

“We’ll make quick work of it.”

“I trust you.”

Yennefer came back into the small cabin with a set of wooden crutches in hand. “These aren’t the most fun to use, but I figured you’d rather these once you’re strong enough over Geralt carrying you everywhere.”


	2. A Mighty Ocean or a Gentle Kiss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Starting two weeks after Jaskier's back to normal, he and Geralt have a talk about their feelings and fluff ensues.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the second chapter I promised. I meant to post it last night but my computer was being a piece of shit so I was too upset to touch it... Anyway, here you go!

“Ready?” Geralt asked. He was standing above Jaskier, holding the bard’s hands firmly in his own. 

Jaskier adjusted how he was kneeling slightly and nodded, tightening his grip on Geralt’s hands. “Do it.” 

“One, two-” Geralt pulled up and helped Jaskier to stand, swiftly changing his hold so he was gripping the bard’s forearm. 

Jaskier’s legs trembled with the effort to stand but he was calm knowing Geralt wasn’t going to let him fall. The bard nodded again and they began- slowly- walking. Geralt walked backwards, studying Jaskier’s face for pain. Jaskier had yet to look up from his boots. 

They made it ten feet before Jaskier’s legs gave out. As predicted, Geralt caught him, moving closer to catch the laughing bard. Through trial and error, they learned it hurt Jaskier significantly less if Geralt caught him under the arms or around the chest. Geralt chuckled at Jaskier’s laughter and lowered him to the ground, sitting beside him. 

The bard nobly laughed through his pain. “We got so much farther this time!” Jaskier beamed. 

The two made eye contact and Jaskier’s grin slowly faded as the clear fondness shone clearly in Geralt’s eyes. The bard knew the same emotion was present in his own eyes. It had been for years. 

Simultaneously, they began leaning forward and their lips met, Jaskier internally sighing that this was finally happening. Geralt was hesitant, almost scared. They pulled away after a few seconds and Jaskier beamed again. 

“I want to try walking again.”

Geralt hummed. “Rest,  _ sitting _ , then we’ll go back to the bedrolls.” 

Silence fell and Jaskier looked up at the stars, Geralt looked at the bard. 

“I’m sorry.” 

“Hm? What for?” Jaskier looked back at Geralt. The Witcher didn’t voice what he was referring to but Jaskier pieced it together in a matter of seconds. “Oh! The kiss? It was a kiss, Geralt. It’s not as though you stabbed me.”

“I don’t know what…” Geralt stopped, turning around from Jaskier as the gears in his head worked double time.

“It’s okay. It doesn’t need to change anything.” Jaskier shook his head. 

“What if I want it to?” Geralt met Jaskier’s eyes again. 

The question caught Jaskier off guard. “Then...then, uh...then we talk about it and move from there.” Jaskier ran a hand through his hair. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Geralt hummed. 

Jaskier moved so he was kneeling again and made grabby hands at Geralt. “Help me to the bedrolls, first.”

Geralt shook his head at Jaskier’s antics but did as requested. They grasped each other’s forearms. “Ready?” Jaskier nodded. “One, two-” and helped the bard stand and then walk, Geralt moving backwards again. 

Once they were back to the bedrolls beside the fire, they sat side by side in a calm and comfortable silence. Jaskier broke it, of course. 

“What are you looking for here, Geralt? Because if it’s just sex, I...I can’t do that. Not with you.”

“No. Jaskier, I- No.” Geralt almost panicked.

If it was any other situation, Jaskier would have laughed at seeing Geralt so flustered. 

“I haven’t done this before.”

Jaskier’s brow furrowed. “Done what?” 

“A committed relationship. I’m not supposed to have emotions…”

“But it’s different around me,” Jaskier filled in.

“Yes.”

Jaskier nodded. “Whoever said Witchers can’t feel emotions clearly hasn’t met one, hm?”

Geralt hummed. “What are we supposed to do?”

“What do you want to do?” 

Geralt carded a hand through his hair, tugging the ponytail slightly. “Why do you keep asking me that?” 

“Because you’re not like everyone else, Geralt. You don’t get excited or...or back in other people’s touches. I’ve been in love with you since we met. I will say that. I wouldn’t say anything because you don’t seem like a relationship enjoying person.” 

Geralt opened his mouth but snapped it shut when Jaskier held up his hand. Oh, how people would have laughed. The might Geralt of Rivia silenced by a bard. 

“I know you care- I know. But caring and protecting isn’t-”

Geralt slammed his lips against Jaskier’s, a hand on either side of the bard’s face. Jaskier squeaked.  _ Squeaked _ . He hadn’t been expecting the sudden movement and caught himself on Geralt’s shoulder, curling his fingers tightly around the fabric of Geralt’s tunic. 

When they pulled apart, leaning their foreheads together, Geralt’s mind was still racing. 

“We don’t need to be anything, Geralt. We can just be us, together, and damn everyone’s titles. Courting, partners, whatever. Fuck all of it.”

Geralt thought a moment, taking Jaskier’s words. He slowly nodded. He liked the idea. It would be the first time something involving him wouldn’t be labelled. It seemed fitting for the change to be with Jaskier. 

“You should sleep; you’re still recovering.” Geralt eased Jaskier to lay down but Jaskier caught his wrist. 

“Move your blanket over here. Stop brooding in the dark and hold me.”

“I’ve got to check on Roach.” Geralt bunched his blanket in a ball and tossed it by Jaskier. The Witcher made his way to Roach and looked over his shoulder. “You don’t have bread in your pants, do you?”

* * *

Geralt held the inn door open for Jaskier who hobbled in on his wooden crutches. He was going much better after a month, but he couldn’t walk on his own yet. The barkeep turned his attention to the newcomers, one with an instrument case on his back, the other with an impressive sword on his back and a hood casting shadows over his eyes. 

“Got any rooms on the first floor?” Jaskier asked hopefully. 

The barkeep looked between Geralt and Jaskier. “One bed or two?”

“Whatever you have,” Geralt spoke up. 

“A one bedded room is open at the moment. That room there.” He pointed across the main room to the only open door. 

“How much?” Geralt reached his hand into the leather bag holding their mixed coin.

“Five gold.”

Jaskier spoke again. “I’m a bard. Could I entertain a while to cover some of the price?”

“What do you play?”

Jaskier twisted slightly to show the man his lute case and Geralt was ready to catch him should he lose balance. “Lute.”

“I’ll knock off two gold for an hour.” The barkeep shrugged.

“Many thanks.” Jaskier bowed his head and Geralt withdrew the needed money from the pouch. 

Jaskier began moving to one of the more central seats of the circle around the firepit, Geralt still tense should he need to catch the bard. “I’m alright, Geralt,” Jaskier smiled and laid his crutches on the floor beside his chair. “Either sit by me or go brood in your corner.”

Geralt scoffed and sat next to Jaskier. As if the Witcher would leave his partner when he was still on the mend.

Jaskier tried to manoeuvre his upper body in a way that allowed him to remove his lute case from his back but grimaced when a muscle in his side pulled painfully. Geralt rested a hand on Jaskier’s shoulder and reached around him with the other to get the case and move it while Jaskier rode out the flare of pain. 

“You need to rest, Jaskier. I’ll pay the other two gold and get you to-” 

Jaskier gripped Geralt’s hand and shook his head. “It’s just an hour, Love. We’re low on money as it is.”

Geralt grunter, giving in knowing Jaskier wouldn’t be swayed on this. Jaskier leaned over and quickly pecked Geralt’s cheek before launching into a jig and gaining the attention of the people in the inn. 45 minutes in, he switched to softer and gentler songs as other guests began drifting to their rooms. A few folks even tossed a spare coin into his lute case. 

“Now you’re going to bed.” Geralt announced. The need for sleep was evident in Jaskier’s last two songs: his chording got sloppy. 

Geralt secured Jaskier’s lute in its case, added the coins to their pouch, and helped Jaskier stand and helped him to their room. Once Jaskier was safely deposited on the bed, Geralt went back to the main room for the bard’s crutches. 

“What ailment plagues your friend?” The barkeep stopped Geralt. 

“The lasting effects of fever broke a month ago.” The lie rolled easily from Geralt’s tongue as he lowered his hood. “He’s regaining strength, though slowly.”

The man approached Geralt and held out the three gold they had paid. “Take your gold back, Good Sir. I lost my brother to a fever last year.”

Geralt shook his head. “Keep-”

“Please. The crutches wear out before too long and new ones cost coin. The bard’s songs were payment enough.”

Geralt hesitantly took the coin. “Thank you.”

“My room is just there,” he pointed, “should you need something. Marique should be starting her shift soon, as well. 

The Witcher nodded again. “Sleep deeply.”

“You and your friend as well.”

Geralt went back to the room, closing the door behind him, and leaned Jaskier’s crutches against the wall by his side of the bed. Before removing his roughly textured trousers, he gazed down at the sleeping bard with tender eyes and a fond smile.

Once laying under the covers, Geralt was pleased when Jaskier snuggled up against him, still soundly sleeping. Geralt pressed a kiss to Jaskier’s temple and gently pulled him closer, drifting to sleep.


End file.
